The Betrayal of Natalie Hargrove (14 page)

I didn’t realize I’d been bearing down so hard on my pen until a big black blob of ink started to bleed through the center of Kate’s note.

Okay, so she was trying to stand by her man—fine. The real issue was how this news might grow as more people saw the note. At least I’d gotten it early enough in its infancy that I could still shape its direction. All I needed to do was tone it down again—with slightly less authorship credit this time.

I folded up the note and passed it on, knowing that Kate might push back on this one. But I hoped, in the long run, she’d understand that I was really looking out for her best interests. The sooner Baxter was out of all of our lives, the better.

Fingers crossed, the biting sarcasm of my response would nip this rumor in the bud. But before I had too much time to relax after my smooth operating, the third note of the morning hit my desk.

What did that even mean? I looked around to see where the note had come from, but all the other kids in my immediate vicinity had their eyes glued to the chalkboard where Madame Virge was conjugating irregular verbs. When she put down the chalk, she looked up at the clock and reached for a slip of paper on her desk.

“I have strict orders to read this prompt,” she said, getting everyone’s attention because of the rare break from her native tongue to say something we could actually understand. “Don’t get any ideas about me speaking English after this.”

As the class groaned, Madame Virge cleared her throat and read.

“‘Attention: to anyone who hasn’t yet met with our new police liaison, Officer Parker. You will be called to Principal Glass’s office during your regular study-hall period for a brief questioning. Every student must attend.’ ”

Hmm. I didn’t have study hall until third period, but Mike would have had it first thing in the morning. Why hadn’t he texted to give me a heads-up?

“A.J.,” I whispered to Amy Jane when the bell rang to dismiss us, “did you already have study hall? What’s the deal with this new cop?”

Amy Jane made a pouting face and said, “Not till last period. Sucks—the word is he’s hot as hell.”

I chewed on my nails and ducked out of class in a huff. I wasn’t going to wait to be called down to meet this new liaison officer, hot as hell or not. I rapped on Principal Glass’s door just as the next bell rang.

“Come in,” an unfamiliar voice called.

Through the fishbowl walls, I could see a man in uniform standing behind the principal’s desk, leaning up against the bookshelf. He looked kind of like a skinnier version of Paul Rudd. When I opened the door and stepped in, the first thing I noticed was his badge, shining like it got a fresh rub of polish every day. Then my eyes traveled down to his navy slacks, which were so snug around the groin that I wondered about a dress-code violation. He had dark hair that he’d slicked up in the front, and his thick eyebrows raised when he gestured to one of the chairs in the office and said, “Have a seat. I guess you’re Palmetto’s Princess, Natalie Hargrove.”

“Good news travels fast,” I said. “I guess you’re Officer Parker.”

I took a seat, eyeing him to see whether he was sleazy enough to lean forward and watch as I sat down in my short gray-blue pleated skirt and crossed my legs. So he was that kind of guy.

“I saw your picture in the paper,” Officer Parker explained. “I’ve been reading up on your school, trying to get a feel for things. You might have guessed that they hired me to get to the bottom of what happened last weekend.”

I shrugged. “I hadn’t given it much thought.”

O.P. scratched his prominent chin. “Was Justin Balmer a friend of yours?”

“Not really,” I said. “He played football with my boyfriend.”

“So I hear.” He looked down at his legal pad, then up at me. “And how long have you been with your boyfriend?”

“I’m not sure what that has to do with your interrogation,” I said, holding his gaze. There was something both hot and cold about his hazel eyes, like driving with the windows down and the heat on in the winter.

Officer Parker came around to the other side of the desk. I could smell the musky aftershave on his face. He gave me a thin smile.

“I’m just going to get down to it, Princess,” he said. “This one stinks of something fishier than a drunk kid missing a dose of pills. You may have heard that we’ve got a suspect linked to a movie filmed that night.”

I shook my head but stiffened my grip on the armrest. This was good: The police were already using Baxter’s tape as evidence.

“Of course,” he continued, “that evidence alone doesn’t make the case airtight. And there’s one small problem with it.” He licked his lips. “Any guess what that problem might be?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, uncrossing and re-crossing my legs.

Officer Parker looked down at them. “You seem like a nice girl. And Baxter Quinn wasn’t much of a cameraman, anyway.” He chuckled, a wheezy, sleazy sound. “A few zesty indiscretions caught on film shouldn’t be held against you.”

I bit my lip. Oh. Shit. In all the time I’d spent brooding over Baxter and the tape, I’d managed to overlook the scintillating scene he had shot of Mike and me earlier in the night. Of course, using that tape to bring down Baxter was too good to be true. I couldn’t believe that this sleazebag cop, with the all-too-knowing twinkle in his eye, had something on me now, too.

“I just wouldn’t want to see your reputation go to hell so soon after you got what you wanted,” O.P. said finally.

“What I wanted?” I asked. Well. How much
did
he know? I felt so powerless and so exposed, like the whole school could see my thoughts as clearly as they could see through this glass-walled room.

“The crown,” he said simply.

I exhaled.

“Look,” Officer Parker said. He was close enough that I could feel his breath on my cheek. “No one’s using the word blackmail. Personally, I don’t even see a need to use an amateur sex tape in a court of law. Unless . . .”

His hand was on my leg. I looked around. Why wasn’t anyone walking by the fishbowl right now to see what a first-class sleaze this guy was?

“What do you want from me?” I hissed.

“You’re in touch with the kids at Palmetto,” he said, removing his hand to cross his arms over his chest. “Point me toward some other evidence to close the case, and we can pretend this footage never even existed.”

“What about Baxter? What about when he comes back?”

Officer Parker held out his hands in a grand shrug. “His word against mine? This flick’s official police evidence now, Princess,” he said. “Some punk kid with a drug problem won’t be able to do a thing about it.”

He extended his hand, and when I put mine out to shake it, he brought it to his lips. “We’ll be in touch, I’m sure.”

I left the office wanting a shower. What if there was more on that DVD that he wasn’t letting onto? What if he was just trying to see how far he’d have to go to make me crack? And what had happened when he talked to Mike?

A small snore to my left made me jump. It was Darla, the Double D, dozing on the couch outside the principal’s office. She must have sensed me standing over her because she shook awake and immediately wiped some drool from the corner of her mouth. She was sporting a Palmetto sweatshirt, almost identical to the one I’d been wearing yesterday, except in baby blue.

“Did you just get interviewed?” she stammered. “I’m supposed to go in now. I was racking my brain to jot down everything I ever knew about J.B. I want to help—I guess I dozed off.”

“Ever heard the saying about letting sleeping dogs lie?” I said under my breath.

Darla’s face changed. Her eyes grew cold. Before I could apologize, she sat up in her chair.

“You might be older and more popular,” she said with more venom than I knew she had in her, “but I’ve got bigger boobs and more money.”

I laughed and cocked my head at Darla.

“And I’m supposed to be jealous of you?”

Darla shrugged. “You know, there’s another saying. This one’s about the apple not falling far from the tree.” She swiveled her head like a contestant on a seedy talk show. “You are your mother’s daughter.”

“Darla Duke.” A secretary’s head popped out of the office. “Officer Parker will see you now.”

Darla stood up, but before she entered Magnum Sleaze’s den, she looked over her shoulder at me.

“We can be sisters,” she said, quietly enough that the secretary wouldn’t hear. “Or I can treat you like the sponge you were raised to be. Your choice.”

Then she was gone. If these walls weren’t so transparent, I might have grabbed Darla by the hood of that sweatshirt.

But then I spotted Mike further down the hall. As I rushed toward him, I tried hard to regain my composure. He was talking to the football team, laughing and banging his helmet on the lockers. Maybe he didn’t know we were on the cusp of being blackmailed and arrested. By the time I reached him, I was furious.

He took one look at my face and turned to the guys. “I’ll catch up with you in the locker room, okay?” He put his arm around my waist and pulled me in. “What’s up?”

“You met Sergeant Sleaze this morning. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What are you talking about?” Mike looked at me blankly.

“He’s got the DVD,” I said slowly.

“I know,” Mike said, actually grinning. “The guys were talking about it during practice this morning. I’ve been dying to see you in person all day so I could tell you.” He wrapped his hand around the back of my head and whispered, “It’s only a matter of time before we’re off the hook.”

“Are you crazy?” I swatted him away. “Didn’t Officer Parker jog your memory about what else is on there?”

Mike’s brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“That’s great,” I unzipped my backpack for a piece of gum. “He didn’t mention anything. So it’s only me he’s blackmailing.”

Now Mike’s face darkened, and he clenched his teeth. He curled his hand into a fist. “What did he say to you?”

“Let’s just say he’s more than a little bit interested in how much of my flesh Baxter captured.” I chewed. I tried to push him away, but his grip was too strong for me. “Why didn’t you think of that, Mike? You should have done something about the DVD. That was your end of the deal.”

Now Mike dropped his hands from my waist.

“You didn’t think of it either,” he said, exasperated.

“Well, now it’s your turn to step up and figure out how to get your hands on it,” I said. “There are a few things that need to end up on the cutting room floor before anyone can take Baxter down.”

“That’s ridiculous, Nat, you know it,” he muttered. “Who do you think I am?” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “The DVD is in police custody, and I’m supposed to magically lift it off their hands so you don’t get embarrassed for showing too much skin.”

“What if there’s more on that DVD than just too much skin?”

“Remind me what
you’ve
done to help get us out of this? What was your end of the deal again?”

I crossed my arms. “I haven’t had a chance to
talk to Tracy
because I was too busy being blackmailed by the cops.”

“Right, I forgot, you were supposed to talk to Tracy. I hope that won’t be too risky for you. Let me know what she says—if you make it out alive.”

“
Mike
—”

“I’ll see you after school.”

By then, he was already halfway down the hall. I wasn’t about to make a scene by yelling after him in front of the Bambies clustered near the Coke machines. I stormed up the stairs toward the junior bathroom. I
would
find Tracy. And Mike was going to have to do some serious groveling if he wanted to know what I learned.

“There you are,” Tracy said, pushing her sapphire glasses up on her nose when I barged through the bathroom door. “Jesus, Nat, you look like shit.”

“I just—” I started to say . . . I just what?

“I just got hit on by our new ‘police liaison,’ ” I finally said. “It’s wigging me out pretty bad.”

“Poor thing,” Tracy said, gathering her braids in a thick ponytail. “I met O.P. this morning. Smokin’ but slimy, right?” She guided me over to the mirror and lit some incense. “Here,” she said, starting to brush my hair with her fingers, “let’s calm you down.”

In the mirror, still shaking, face flushed, I hardly recognized myself. I looked so tired and so old. My hair had lost its luster, and even my dark brown eyes looked dull. Had it only been a week since Palmetto judged me worthy of the crown?

“That man is an absolute slimeball,” I said.

“I know,” Tracy cooed. “But as much as you might hate to hear this, you have someone in common with Officer Parker.”

I shook my head. “What are you talking about? Where would you have heard something like that?”

Tracy clucked her tongue. “You know I never reveal my sources.” She looked thoughtful. “I guess that’s the only thing I have in common with the rumor mill. Anyway, if you want to get even with O.P., all I’m saying is, an old friend might come in handy.”

“I don’t get it. How do I—”

The bell rang. Tracy blew out the incense and shrugged.

“I really can’t say any more. Except this: Revenge is often closer than you think, and the fall is never far behind it.”

CHAPTER Thirteen

A
fter school on Monday, I ducked out the fire exit toward Mike’s and my spot under the bleachers. I really wasn’t up for getting sideswiped by any of the numerous people I was avoiding—from Darla Duke to Officer Parker. And I definitely didn’t want to see Kate. My head was still spinning from trying to make sense of Tracy’s latest enigmatic prophecy. Maybe Mike would be able to shed some light.